Through Coals and Rain
by Kakawot
Summary: Sometimes Danny acts as more than Amity Park's ghost fighter. Sometimes he rescues people from burning buildings. And sometimes that goes wrong.


**Through coals and rain**

A/N: I've taken some liberties with the treatment of victims of smoke inhalation and carbon monoxide poisoning. Pesky humans can be so _fragile_ sometimes!

I'm ESL, so please tell me if you come across any mistakes.

* * *

The building looked like the entrance to the netherworld. Smoke billowed into the night sky and flames lit the black smoke from below, licking at the air through windows and hungrily sucking in all the oxygen.

Siren lights bathed the bottom of the building in red and blue lights in a dizzying display of utter urgency. Firemen climbed atop ladders and rescued people from the upper floors. On the lower floor the fire ravaged everything around it and prevented firefighters from entering the building. People trapped inside waved at the rescue crews with whatever they could lay their hands on.

Danny took all this in when he shot by and immediately turned around mid-flight, heading for the burning building at top speed.

"Amity Accountant Office," the letters proclaimed on the outside of the building, nearly invisible through the thick smoke.

He turned intangible and dropped through the roof, his keen eyes searching for people to take down with him. Most people had ran to the upper floors when the fire alarm had finally alerted everybody that the lower floor was on fire.

Without hesitation he snagged two people by the arms, turning them intangible as well before swooping outside again, hurtling towards the ground. Terrified screams followed in his wake but before he should by all rights slam into the concrete he slowed down and deposited the duo on the ground. He didn't wait for them to get their bearings before he flew up again, intending to grab another pair of humans.

Danny performed this rescue action two more times before people began to notice him, on the inside and outside of the building.

"Phantom! Phantom's here!" he heard people say to each other on the inside. When he dived inside the next time humans grabbed him by his arms and he had to turn intangible again to get them to let him go.

Terrified office workers screamed at him to take them next, to save their own hide and get down to the ground. White smoke started to make its way inside the barricaded doors and Danny felt his eyes sting from the smoke he had flown through three times already.

"Silence!" he screamed back as loud as he could, using so much power behind his voice he accidentally let a touch of his Ghostly Wail slip through. That got through their skulls and the clamor died down a bit.

"Line up, two by two, and I'll get you down as soon as possible," he promised. The people scrambled to line up and Danny grabbed the first two who were standing next to each other. Without waiting for the rest of the people to did as he asked, he pulled them down with his intangibility. As he approached the ground he heard more people yelling his name and pointing at a cluster of ambulances gathered near the entrance of the office building.

"Phantom! Put them down here!" an ambulance worker communicated through a megaphone. Danny altered his trajectory slightly and deposited them next to the nearest yellow ambulance-resembling vehicle he saw.

He got three more duos down before his next problem arrived on the scene.

Valerie Gray had also gotten wind of the raging fire and had shown up in her Red Huntress suit. She circled the building once before she spotted Danny.

Danny rolled out of the way of a pink blast fired by Valerie just in time to avoid injury. Valerie was too far to do anything else but throw pink blasts at him. By then Danny had reached the upper floor and without bothering to acknowledge the Red Huntress he took another pair of humans down.

"You saving people now?" Valerie asked as she sped down after Danny. Danny looked over his shoulder and conveyed his message in as simple language as possible.

"Duh. More people on the upper floor - go rescue them!"

Danny read from Valerie's body language that the she very much wanted to shoot Danny, but the black smoke drifted across her viewing field and that alerted her to the fact that there was a large building on fire right next to her, with people still trapped inside. That made her decision for her and Danny was relieved to see Valerie turn her sled around and speed towards the upper floor.

Transporting people up and down at top speed started to take its toll on Danny. His eyes watered from the angry smoke and he had to cough whenever he flew through it. Sirens accosted him on all sides and the screaming people were no prize either. The terrified emotions he sensed all around made him anxious as well.

Danny caught up with Valerie just as she let people climb onto her sled. Without bothering with an explanation Danny grabbed the next two people in line and flew up and down again before Valerie had begun her spiraling descent so she wouldn't dislodge her passengers.

There were four more people left on the upper floor, meaning two more trips up and down. When he'd deposited the last pair of humans down below he waited for a few seconds for them to realize that they were safe before asking them: "was there anybody left on that floor?"

The man he took down shook his head. "Not that I know of. I think you took everybody from the upper floors down."

"And the lower floors?"

The man shook his head. "I - I don't know. Oh God."

The realization what he had just been through caught up with him and he choked, tears running down his face. The woman he was with had a similar reaction to events and Danny left them alone.

He wiped the sweat from his face with a soot-stained glove and contemplated what to do next. Should he fly inside and look around for people, or should he ask the firemen how he could help them? What would save the most lives?

His decision was made for him when the man with the megaphone barged in through the forest of ambulances and pointed at him.

"Phantom, our ladder can't reach the seventh floor and there are two people trapped between the elevator shaft and the window."

"On it," replied Danny and he counted the floors before shooting off, barging inside through use of his intangibility.

The second he willed himself in the touchable range smoke accosted him and smells and heat were all around him as he flew through the building, looking for the elevator shaft. His eyes immediately watered and he began to cough. The closer to the ground he flew the more bearable it was, however. So he cut through the building barely inches from the floor, searching for the two trapped people.

He listened for the sounds of cries, but what finally pushed him in the right direction was the incredibly strong sense of mortal fear. His empathy hadn't developed enough yet to pinpoint the precise location but he got a general direction, and that was all he needed.

His keener-than-human eyes managed to spot the two humans hanging half out the window, gasping for air as the heat rose ever higher and smoke crawled all around them.

"Hang on," was all the warning they got before Danny put his arms around them, turned them intangible and got them safely down to the ambulances. The megaphone-man immediately accosted him and pressed something in the palm of his hand. With his other he tapped his own ear. Danny eyed the device through watering eyes and he saw that it looked remarkably similar to the Fenton Phones.

He put it in his right ear and chatter assaulted him over the radio. Megaphone-man touched his ear and spoke in a clear voice: "we've got Phantom joining us, where do we need him?"

"Basement," came the immediate reply. "Door's stuck."

"Hold on," said megaphone-man hurriedly, because Danny already tensed up in preparation of flying off. "Touch the phone, wait a second and then talk. I hope it works for you as well."

"Got it," replied Danny and this time megaphone-man let him go. Within seconds he disappeared through the ground and flew in a straight line until he broke through concrete and got inside the basement. He saw two firemen busy wielding axes to chop down a door. People screamed behind it for them to hurry up. White smoke clouded the corridor already, making it harder to breathe.

"Stand clear of the door," yelled Danny over the sounds of the axes, coughing afterwards. The two firemen jerked around to see who yelled at them but when they saw his supernatural glowing form they stepped aside. Danny let his power travel from his core through his arms and fired a steady blast at the door, forcing it to blacken and finally crumble under the onslaught. Comically slow it toppled to the floor. People immediately poured free from the death trap and the firemen had their hands full guiding them safely back up.

He drifted upwards and when his head popped above ground he touched the communications device twisted in his ear.

"Phantom here - basement is clear. Where to next?" he coughed inside his gloved fist as he awaited answer and he wasn't surprised when the glove became even more dirty from the ashes caught inside his lungs. A sweat drop made its way through his eyebrows, stinging his eye, but it quickly got washed away in the tears streaming down his face. He rubbed his eyes but only succeeded in spreading the gray ashes around.

"Do a fly-by of the emergency stairs inside the building from third floor up," instructed an authoritative voice.

And thus continued the rescue operation for Danny. He didn't know how long he'd been flying around. There was only fire, heat, smoke and hurt people, trampled people, firemen taking people he'd rescued out of burning rooms from him and a voice in his ear telling him where to go next, what to do now. His intangibility lasted shorter, his flight became wobblier and slower, but still he pressed on, drawing rough breath after rough breath as he struggled with an obese man stuck in a small doorway, clearing rubble impeding progress of firemen and flying up and down as they found more people unconscious in hallways.

"Look out!" yelled a fireman suddenly when he joined him and another fireman to transport an unconscious woman down. There came a great rumbling down the corridor, emanating from the elevator shaft. He'd learned that the fire managed to spread through the shaft, acting as a huge chimney through which the fire climbed upwards in its quest for more oxygen.

His eyes widened when the heat all around him rose and a fireball shot its way towards the three of them. Acting purely on instinct he mixed the power of his ice core with his ectoplasm and erected a thick ice shield shining with ectoplasmic energy. The fireball hit the shield and he flinched as he heard it hiss and melt. For a second the heat was unbearable but then it diminished as the fireball lost oxygen. He pumped more ice into the shield as it was the only thing keeping him and the firemen safe from the burning hallway. Immediately he felt even more drained.

The entire hallway was now a blazing inferno and he grabbed the two firemen, turning them intangible before flying them outside and down. There was nothing they could do now. He heard the ice shield shatter behind him and the water evaporated in a cloud of steam, adding to the black smoke still billowing from the building.

"Th-thanks," one of the firemen managed to stutter. His eyes were still wide behind his helmet. He probably saw his life flash in front of his eyes. Danny muttered something which was supposed to be "you're welcome" but it turned into a hacking cough.

Danny was by now completely covered in ashes. His easily distinguishable white hair was as gray as the ground around him and his hazmat suit bore the same color. If he focused he could phase them off, but it was far more important to make his entire body intangible than just the parts he wanted to clean. He could always clean up later.

Only his cheeks were somewhat ash-free thanks to the tears flowing from his eyes. Blood stained his gloves from when he transported injured people and his own bright green ectoplasm covered his boots from when he'd ripped his leg open on a twisted steel cable from rubble he'd thought he'd cleared up, but which had collapsed on top of him.

"One last pass, Phantom," instructed the voice in his ear. Obligingly he drifted upwards and steered clear of the lower floors. The firemen had been incredibly busy and the lower floors were drenched with water and some sort of powder, but the fire had crept upwards and now neared the fifth floor of the ten-story building.

He made his way to the top floor and searched once again through the offices, the emergency stairs, the bathrooms, calling and coughing and calling all the way down to the sixth floor, where the heat was unbearable. But there was no one left in the building.

"All clear," he said, propelling himself out the nearest window. He let gravity guide him downwards as he drew in breaths of cold air, trying to shake the dizzy feeling off.

"Roger. We've indeed got everybody accounted for. Thank you, Phantom, for your assistance. You've been-"

Danny wanted to pull up at the last second and land gently, but his powers refused to obey him. His body shut down on him and he dropped from the sky, landing heavily on the ash-covered concrete. He rolled a few times before coming to a stop next to a fire truck. He groaned as his head threatened to split open. He clung on to consciousness, he had to, or else they'd find out his secret and he wasn't ready, he felt the rings at his waist and he forced them back, focusing on the pain pounding in his skull.

He barely even noticed when someone picked him up, carrying him bridal style. He clung to his benefactor, wrapping his arms around his neck. The person carrying him was pleasantly alive and exhibiting emotions of gratitude and care, tinged with a hint of nervousness. It soothed him somewhat and he opened his smarting eyes when the person put him down, laying him on a gurney next to an ambulance.

"Thanks," he tried to say, but could only cough. So when he was done he just smiled at the firefighter to get the message across. The firefighter smiled back at him and that emotion strengthened him more than he liked to admit.

He sat up and a wave of surprise alerted him to the arrival of another person.

"Phantom?" he heard a woman's voice say. The firefighter and the woman conversed in quick messages but Danny wasn't paying attention to them. He drew his knees up and laid his chin on them, looking at the still-burning building.

He jerked when the ambulance woman put a blanket around his shoulders. Danny gripped it and after a moment's hesitation wrapped it around him. The sweat cooled on his body and he felt unpleasantly cold while his face and hands still burnt from exposure to fire for a prolonged time.

"Alright Phantom, I've got to admit I've no idea how to take care of a ghost so you're gonna have to help me on this one," said the woman. "You can call me Tracy."

The firefighter smiled one last time at Danny before walking off, leaving Danny alone with Tracy. The influx of positive emotion was just the thing Danny needed to regain some of his lost strength. He began coughing again, his throat incredibly sore.

Tracy immediately got to work.

"Open up," she commanded and with some reluctance Danny let the blanket slip free, exposing his upper body to the woman.

"Since you're coughing I'll assume you need some oxygen to survive," said Tracy, almost ending her statement in a question. Danny felt aware of the fact that he was breathing and he felt exposed under Tracy's scrutinous look. But still he nodded, too tired to explain or object. Danny didn't need much oxygen to survive when he was in ghost mode, but he breathed at least five times a minute.

Tracy reached inside the ambulance and got a long and flat wooden kind of spatula out. She mimed for Danny to open his mouth. Danny obliged and Tracy used the wooden tool to keep his tongue flat while she shone inside Danny's mouth with a small flashlight. When she was done with that she gently probed Danny's neck.

"Alright, your airway looks reasonably fine, considering the circumstances. I'm not going to intubate you but if you have any trouble breathing, tell me immediately. If I don't intubate you fast enough you'll choke to dea - you'll choke."

Tracy adopted a soothing and level tone, explaining her actions as she did them. It was a tone a minor like Danny was familiar with and it comforted him. The way Tracy kept on being a professional was a relief in itself.

The woman once again reached inside the ambulance and got a cylinder out with a mask attached. She handed the oxygen mask to Danny.

"This'll help you breathe better. Though I don't know if this'll work but it won't hurt to try," said Tracy. Danny looked at the mask and back at Tracy. Did he dare risk breathing in unfamiliar gas to ease his aching lungs? Could he trust Tracy? He didn't sense any too negative emotions from the woman, meaning she probably wasn't with the Guys in White.

With some trepidation Danny put the mask over his nose and mouth and breathed in, wary for weird smells or his body suddenly not responding anymore. But instead he could breathe a little easier, meaning it was just oxygen.

"I felt a heartbeat," continued Tracy her examination. Danny didn't have the energy to care anymore how much Tracy could deduce from this examination so he simply nodded at Tracy's wondering tone.

"Is it beating faster or slower than usual?" asked Tracy. Danny shook his head.

"Good, that's good. Alright, since you've been inside that building for a long time you might have carbon monoxide poisoning. I'll bet you've got a headache from slamming into the street just now, but do you feel nauseous?"

Danny nodded, pulling a face behind the mask. Something inside him which was supposed to be his stomach in human form flip-flopped around now that he thought about it and didn't have to worry about raging fireballs coming for him.

"Any dizziness?" Another nod.

"Do you feel confused or inexplicably tired?" Danny shrugged and shook his head at the same time. He was exhausted, but he was pretty sure his mind was as sharp as it could be under these circumstances.

"What's your name?" Tracy asked suddenly. Danny lifted the mask from his mouth to answer. He had to clear his throat three times before he could get any sound out, and even then it was hoarse.

"Danny Phantom," he said, making sure not to slip up. The professional demeanor of the ambulance worker was a refreshing change from all the fear he'd felt all around him for hours now and he absorbed the positive feeling like a black hole draws in light. Already it gave him more energy.

"What's that building called?" asked Tracy, pointing at the burning building.

"Amity Accountant Office," answered Danny promptly.

"If I've got twenty-five apples and my friend has fifteen pears, how much pieces of fruit are left if I can only eat five pears and ten apples?"

"Twenty - no, twenty five. Sorry, I'm bad at math," said Danny with a tiny smile lifting up the corners of his mouth. He pressed the mask back to his face when his answer made Tracy smile as well. He reveled in the positive emotion from both himself and Tracy.

"Looks like you did get hit by some carbon monoxide but the oxygen helps with that. Again: let me know if anything changes."

Tracy got out her flashlight again and a touch of nervousness brushed Danny's empathy. She got up close and personal and shone the flashlight in Danny's eyes, one by one. Her warm breath washed over Danny's cold face but apparently his pupils reacted normally because Tracy tucked the flashlight away and stepped away from the gurney.

"If you open that suit of yours you can breathe more easily," said Tracy. "Or is it a part of you?" she added hesitantly.

"Need a bit more privacy," said Danny when he'd lifted the mask from his face. Tracy jerked her head towards the ambulance.

"C'mon, let's get you inside so I can patch you up some more."

Tracy helped Danny off the gurney to Danny's dislike. When he stood on his own two legs he felt a familiar and unwelcome sensation roil around inside him and crawl to the surface. With a curse he twisted away from Tracy, ripping the oxygen mask from his face and holding it far away. He bent double and dry heaved a couple of times before the nausea made itself known and he threw up his last meal on the concrete.

To his horror the liquid had traces of gray in it. He coughed a few more times before slowly righting his back.

"Here," said Tracy, taking the oxygen mask from his limp hands and handing him an opened bottle of water. "You _can_ drink, I hope," said Tracy. Without bothering with a reply Danny gurgled with the water, spitting it out and then he drained the entire bottle without pause. The cold water was one of the greatest gifts he'd ever gotten and although his stomach rebelled a bit at the sudden onset of cold sensation he felt better now that he no longer had the taste of soot in his mouth.

"Thanks," he said in a clearer voice. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and wrinkled his nose in disgust when his lips encountered more ashes on the glove. With some sputtering he got rid of it and spit on the ground once more.

With expert precision Tracy wheeled the gurney inside, extracting metal clanging sounds from the wheel mechanism as it folded inwards.

Danny stepped inside the ambulance and sat down on the gurney.

If Tracy was one of the Guys in White, now was the perfect time to announce that the vehicle was in fact a ghost trap, pull the doors shut and knock Danny unconscious. Tracy did close one door but kept the other open. With some trouble she got the cylinder of oxygen back inside and once again handed the mask to Danny.

"Feeling better?" she asked in a gentle voice.

"Yeah," confirmed Danny before slotting the mask over his face. In the semi-private space of the ambulance he grabbed hold of the nearly invisible zipper at the collar of the hazmat suit and pulled it down. The tight material slipped loose from his body and breathing indeed became easier without the strong material of the hazmat suit to constrict him.

With each passing minute more and more aches and pains popped up when his body began to run out of the adrenaline high he'd been on the past hours.

Tracy gave Danny an once-over in the bright lights of the ambulance and apparently what she saw did not please her because Danny felt a wave of exhausted anger wash over him. In his tired state he winced, which Tracy took as a sign of pain finally catching up with Danny.

"First things first," said Tracy decidedly. She'd triaged Danny and took position at Danny's outstretched legs. Gently she lifted Danny's right leg. Before Danny could protest she took off the dirty boot and got out scissors, cutting through the material all the way through to the gash on Danny's leg. But the material didn't give as easily so she tugged at the pants.

"Take them off," she instructed, but Danny shook his head.

"Trust me, you've got nothing I haven't seen before," replied Tracy. "Except that you're a ghost. With a heartbeat."

Danny really didn't like the way Tracy's mind appeared to wander and without further protest he wriggled out of the pants, exposing muscled legs with dark bruises already forming on the tan skin. There were more bleeding cuts and scrapes on his legs than he'd noticed before, although the gash on his right leg was the most prominent of all. With the black pants no longer obscuring his vision Danny saw the full extent of the injury to his leg.

Green ectoplasm dripped freely from his ripped flesh. It looked like he'd gotten in a fight with razor wire and lost.

"That's going to require stitches," explained Tracy. With one hand she reached behind her and blindly got out a suture kit. Quick as a cat she wiped the area clean with disinfectant, making Danny hiss in pain as the stinging alcohol crawled inside the wound.

"I can give you a local or a general sedative," said Tracy. "If they work in the first place. Are you allergic to any sedatives or antibiotics? Do you know if they even work?"

"Local will work, no allergies," replied Danny as fast as he could. He looked away when Tracy prepped a needle and slid it in his leg. Welcome numbness spread out. Tracy wiped down the area again until no more ectoplasm dripped out before closing the gaping wound with five stitches. She slapped on a patch of sterile gauze before moving on to Danny's other injuries.

"Take off your top and gloves," she said, putting away the suture kit and grabbing a whole 'nother kit from the overhead cabinets.

Danny did as she'd asked. His energy was trickling back the longer he kept on breathing oxygen and receiving positive emotions from both himself and Tracy. He didn't like to dwell on that energy source for too long but now it came in handy, healing his body faster and clearing his head. He still had a headache and the nausea hadn't completely abated but it was manageable now and didn't threaten to overwhelm him. He no longer felt like he had to cling to consciousness.

Tracy got out wet wipes and began to clean Danny's face and neck, checking for any hidden injuries. Danny quickly plucked the wet wipes from her hands and wiped down his face himself. He felt like a small child again when Tracy had wiped him down, dirtied in the back yard and needing to be presentable again.

"See if you can breathe without the mask for a few minutes," said Tracy. Danny reluctantly let go of the mask and used this opportunity to wipe the area around his mouth and nose. At the first breath he felt his head spin but then his body once again got accustomed to only breathing twenty percent oxygen.

"I need you to talk to me, Danny. Doesn't matter about what, but we've got to make sure that the carbon monoxide poisoning or the concussion doesn't worsen."

"Alright," replied Danny. His voice was less hoarse and it no longer hurt to talk. "I can tell you about the burns on my hands then," he said. "And I'm pretty sure my face got toasted as well."

"What hurts worse?" asked Tracy. Her eyes roved over Danny's face and hands, assessing the damage herself.

A cut had reopened with the cleaning above Danny's eye and he felt ectoplasm trickle towards his eyebrow. Tracy had spotted that as well and with deft fingers she dabbed the ectoplasm away with cotton and put a band-aid over it, absorbing the green liquid.

"Hands, definitely." Danny spread out his fingers and winced as that pulled the hurt skin tight, alerting his nerve endings that there was a pain signal to send towards the brain. Tracy carefully examined Danny's fingers and drew her conclusion.

"Mild second degree burns. And a first degree on your cheek. I think you've been really lucky, Danny."

Tracy got a cold compress out and held it against Danny's cheek. With her other hand she lifted Danny's arm and Danny understood that Tracy wanted him to hold it there himself.

"This'll help with the pain. I'll bandage your fingers later. I can give you some cream that'll help them heal faster, but it'll heal on its own if you don't pick at any blisters. Really, don't."

Danny nodded, a bit intimidated by her warning tone.

"Keep talking to me, Danny. What do you do when you're not rescuing people from burning buildings?"

That one was easy. "I fight ghosts," replied Danny. "I capture ghosts, send them back to the Ghost Zone, I find and fight new ghosts and so the days go by. And are we communicating in monkey language now?"

Danny shivered involuntarily when Tracy touched his scalp, long fingers probing all over his head. The cool compress was soothing his burnt skin and the hot pain radiating from the area lessened.

"I'm not checking for fleas, I'm checking for a bump on your head. If that landing you performed, or lacked to perform back there made the bump grow inwards we've got a problem. But, aha, here it is."

Danny jerked when Tracy's fingers brushed the sensitive skin. "It's not the first time I smashed into something. Comes with the territory of flying and fighting," said Danny.

He rubbed his eye with his free hand but before he could get very far Tracy slapped his hand away.

"Don't rub!" she commanded. Immediately the itchiness and burning feeling in Danny's eyes tripled.

"I'll get some artificial tears to make them irritate less," said Tracy. Her fingers left Danny's scalp and now that the bump had been discovered it began to add its pain to the all-over bruised feeling Danny carried around.

"Lean your head back," instructed Tracy. "And try not to blink."

The itchy feeling worsened by the second and Danny clenched the fingers of his free hand into a fist to stop himself from rubbing. He did as Tracy asked and the ambulance worker dripped the fluid in his eyes in the utmost concentration. Danny saw that Tracy had the tip of her tongue poking out of her mouth as she focused on the task at hand.

When the drops hit Danny's eyes he _had _to blink, but the grit and soot gathered in his eyes washed away with the fluid. He bet it looked like he was crying again, but this time the tears were healing and soothed the burning feeling.

Danny blinked a few more times and screwed his eyes shut to get the last of the fluid out of them, shaking his head a little.

"Don't rub," warned Tracy again. Danny nodded meekly. With each treatment he felt better and better. His leg was still numb from the local anesthetic and numerous bruises really began to bloom all over his body, but his breathing came easy now and his hoarseness began to disappear the more he talked. The nauseous feeling somehow began to turn into something else, something every living being was familiar with: hunger.

That left Danny with a dilemma. On one hand, if his body required sustenance, it'd help him heal better if he ate something and fed his human side.

On the other hand, very few humans were aware that ghosts could and sometimes did eat 'human' food. If he asked for a sandwich now, it would set him apart as a freak amongst the ghosts once more, possibly shining a spotlight on his dual identity if word got to the 'phans' or ghost hunters. He knew that his behavior was far out of line with the expectations: he'd heard his parents rant about it often enough at the dinner table.

But evolution had built his body in such a way that a fundamental feeling like hunger would get answered as soon as possible. In his weak state the food could provide that extra boost he needed if he had to get out of here or possible rescue someone else. Or, heaven forbid, a ghost decided to drop by right now, drawn to the atmosphere of mortal fear which still clung to the building like spandex.

Hunger was never easy to ignore, not even in ghost mode. He didn't need much, but he did need a little food if he stayed in ghost mode long enough. It wasn't often he was in ghost mode long enough to get the hungry feeling. It was something he had to get used to, because somehow the feeling got twisted by his ghost side. It felt less like hunger and more like a hollow in his chest. The first time it happened he had freaked out and thought that reality had finally caught up with him, finally sucking his soul to the Ghost Zone forever.

When he'd transformed back and searched for any divine or demonic creatures to rip him from this planet he'd thought: I'd trade Tucker for a flapjack right now.

And thus the hollow feeling made itself known to Danny, and he had a dilemma. Risk his secret and get more less-known facts to ghost hunters, or heal faster thanks to the food?

Danny felt the hollow feeling inside him grow larger and he made up his mind.

"This might sound really weird coming from a ghost," began Danny hesitantly, "but do you have something to eat?"

Tracy paused from putting away some equipment to make room for other equipment to throw a quizzical look at Danny.

"Yeah," she said slowly, "but I've only got… human food."

"Oh, that'll do fine," assured Danny her. He kicked his brain into gear when he realized that Tracy had just given him an out. "It's not what I prefer but I _can_ digest it."

There, that should make her think that all ghosts could eat, or at least the humanoid ones, but they simply chose not to. Fear was far easier food to obtain from humans than raiding the local supermarket.

"I've got some candy bars up front," said Tracy. "Can you eat those?"

Mm, chocolate. Danny nodded enthusiastically. Tracy let her eyes linger on Danny for a few seconds before she disappeared into the driver's cabin. She returned with three different candy bars, presenting them to Danny.

"Thank you very much," said Danny as he snagged the nearest one. He tried to control himself but he was _hungry_! He let go of the cool compress to tear the wrapper open and the candy bar disappeared in three bites. Tracy chuckled at the display and offered the other two to Danny as well.

"All that energy spent rescuing people has to come from somewhere, huh," observed Tracy. "I thought ghosts got their energy from scaring people."

Danny had his mouth stuffed with chocolaty goodness so he couldn't answer, but gave a shrug instead.

"Some do, some don't," he sort-of explained when his gums were no longer glued together by sugar. The sting of air on his face and fingers reminded him of his burns. Tracy noticed the small wince and she readied her burn victim equipment, something Danny guessed had been standing by during this whole disaster.

"You still have to keep talking, Danny, so can you tell me how ghosts get their energy?"

Oh boy, he had to stay sharp for this one, not revealing too much while still maintaining an air that he was a full ghost who just happened to like chocolate.

Or he could just divert the topic.

"I just know that when I eat 'human food' as you put it, I feel better. Can we talk about something-"

He stopped talking when a touch of cold showed up at the pit of his stomach, clawing its way up his esophagus before forcing its way out of his body in the form of foggy breath. His eyes widened.

"Oh no," he groaned. Tracy stopped what she was doing when she heard those words. Immediately she was at the gurney.

"Talk to me Danny, what's wrong?" she said in a forceful tone. She got her flashlight out to shine into Danny's eyes but Danny stopped her.

"There's another ghost nearby," he explained. "Nothing's wrong with me. At least, nothing you can't fix, apparently."

"You _know_ when there's another ghost?" asked Tracy. She got up, stepping outside the ambulance to check the skies. Danny reached for his pants with the intention of putting them back on. He felt strong enough to fly now, and he prayed that the visiting ghost wasn't Vlad or Skulker, intent on capturing him now that he was injured. But even those two ghosts couldn't keep him from first putting on his pants before flying out to confront the threat.

He had his pants halfway to his shins when the ghost peeked through the walls of the ambulance. It looked at Danny for a few seconds, head cocked, before emitting a roaring bark of joy. Outside the ambulance Danny heard Tracy curse loudly.

"Cujo!" said Danny with a big smile of relief on his face. The ghost dog was in its huge form, its mouth looking ready to gobble up Danny with a single bite.

It came as no surprise that when Tracy stepped inside and turned around, she screamed in fear and fell against the side of the ambulance, her legs seemingly collapsing underneath her.

Hurriedly Danny scratched on the special spot underneath Cujo's chin which would turn the monster back into a puppy. The dog barked at him before indeed transforming back into its smaller form.

"Wh-wh-wha," stuttered Tracy with the hint of a fear scream in her voice should anything else happen. She seemed to gather her nerves and pulled open a drawer, blindly grabbing a scalpel from it. She brandished it like a weapon at the tiny dog.

"It's alright!" cried Danny, hands outstretched to ward off the scalpel and the feeling of fear emanating from Tracy. "It's a friendly ghost. See? Just a puppy."

Danny reached over and plucked the puppy from the bench, holding it up Lion King style to show it to Tracy. Cujo barked and wagged its tail, clearly happy with the strong feeling of fear all around it.

"But it was _huge_!" said Tracy. She got to her feet and stopped pointing the blade at Danny and Cujo, but she held on to it.

"Yes, Cujo can do that. But he's not so bad, and if he gets angry you just throw something for him to fetch and he's a little puppy again."

Danny put the dead dog back on the bench and decided to finish putting on his pants, careful of the gauze keeping the stitches bacteria-free.

"A-alright," said Tracy. "If you can guarantee me that he's not going to hurt anyone he can keep close, but he has to get out of the ambulance."

"Sounds fair," said Danny. He turned to the happily wagging Cujo and scratched the puppy under its chin again before looking into its eyes. He pointed outside.

"Cujo, guard," he said. Cujo followed his finger with its eyes and with a bark it floated out, taking on its huge form and growling at something once it was clear of the ambulance, probably a piece of concrete.

"That's your dog?" asked Tracy in disbelief. She put the scalpel down but Danny noticed that she kept it within easy reach.

"No," said Danny immediately. "I found it, or rather, it found me and I helped it move on. Or so I thought, because Cujo showed up a few months later and I sort of adopted it and trained it so it won't form a threat to Amity Park."

"And 'guard' was part of that training, huh," said Tracy.

"Yep. It has come in handy a few times. But, err, could you take a deep breath and calm down a little?"

Danny felt his burnt fingers tingle whenever his empathy picked up fierce negative emotions from Tracy, which had exploded when Cujo appeared on the scene. The emotional stings his ghost form endured reminded him that he still had smarting fingers.

Tracy tore her eyes from the green glow Cujo added to the scene, shining through the open door of the ambulance. Small growls escaped from the dog and with every growl Danny felt Tracy's fear spike.

The ambulance worker closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths and wiped her face with one hand as if she had just woken up. When she opened her eyes Danny felt the fear slowly ebb away, with a much more neutral feeling of pressing on determinedly and readiness taking its place.

"You said that some ghosts like fear, and some don't. I guess you're one of the ones that don't," observed Tracy astutely.

"No, no I don't," replied Danny truthfully. "You still need me to keep on talking, right?"

At Tracy's nod Danny continued. "Positive emotions are stronger and, well, more potent as an energy source, but for ghosts they're harder to obtain. But pop up next to a human and you get a dose of fear and other negative emotions without breaking a sweat."

Danny wiggled his burnt fingers, sending discomfort traveling up his arms. He'd lost track of the cool compress in the din and his fingers hurt again.

Hold on, he was an ice ghost!

He focused on the palm of his hand for a few seconds and a rough ice cube formed in his hand. If his ice powers were returning, he was on the right track to healing fast. Tracy's tender care formed a boost to his accelerated healing factor and thanks to that he was once again able to conjure up ice without passing out.

Tracy had looked at this casual display of ghostliness without comment, but when Danny lifted the soothing cool ice cube to his cheek to smooth away the burning pain she sprung into action.

"No ice," she said and plucked the ice cube from Danny's fingers.

"Hey!" said Danny. "Why not? It's cold and I need cold!"

"Ice damages the skin even further," explained Tracy. She said the words in a flat tone as if she'd read them from a textbook.

"But I'm an ice ghost," argued Danny. "I _create_ ice and I've never had skin damage. The burns are too hot right now."

"I've got another cool compress here," said Tracy, pushing the plastic in Danny's hands. Danny eyed the plastic for a few seconds, glared at it but then pressed it to his cheek again.

"Thanks," he ground out, "but I'm pretty much immune to cold. Ice won't hurt me."

"In my professional opinion, it will. Now hush up and let me see that hand again."

Without waiting Tracy took Danny's hand and slathered some kind of burn cream on it before loosely bandaging it.

"This should hold you over. Refresh the bandages tomorrow evening and don't pick at the blisters. If you'll do, they'll get infected and they'll ooze-"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," interrupted Danny quickly.

Tracy also used some burn cream to cover the first degree burn on Danny's cheek, but she didn't bandage it.

"That'll heal better if we don't cover it," explained Tracy. She turned stern eyes on Danny. "But don't even _think_ of using ice to cool it. Get some aloe vera ointment or after sun cream if it's still bothering you tomorrow."

Tracy's eyes roved over Danny's body, checking for any other injuries she might have missed and Danny didn't complain about. She covered some more scratches with band-aids and prodded Danny's shoulders.

"How much can you lift?" she asked as her fingers flitted over Danny's shoulders, sometimes probing into the flesh.

"I don't really know," replied Danny. "About three hundred, maybe three hundred fifty pounds. But I didn't tear anything in my shoulders."

"I noticed, just checking."

Tracy stood at the foot of the gurney, looking Danny in the eyes.

"Alright, I've done about all I can at this point. I'd prefer to take you to the hospital to monitor your smoke inhalation, but I guess you'll fly out of here before I can get you through there, if I remember my superhero comics correctly."

Danny grinned sheepishly. Short from suddenly developing bleeding from the eyes there was no way he was going to set foot in a hospital, not in this form and still relatively weak.

"So I need you to tell me now if you feel anything else - sprained joints, gashes, sudden headaches."

"I - no, I don't think so. I feel much, much better already. But hold on, let me get to my feet and I'll see if I've overlooked anything."

With some shuffling Tracy made room for Danny to stand up. Tracy's hand gently guided Danny off the gurney and her training kept her hand hovering near Danny's shoulders at all times, ready to grab onto him if Danny collapsed.

With a sound like a sigh Danny balanced his insignificant weight on his own two feet. The stitches in his leg scratched against the material of his suit and that threw up stings, but other than that he felt fine. Well, reasonably well, considering the circumstances.

Cujo stopped growling and turned around at the sounds of Danny getting up. He barked once before shrinking back into its puppy form, letting his tongue hang out of his mouth.

"Good boy, Cujo," said Danny encouragingly. He patted down his body to check for any signs of pain, but his healing factor was kicking in nicely, flushing away the damages done to his system. He knew that if he transformed back to human even fewer injuries would be visible, but for obvious reasons he couldn't do that.

"No, I feel fine," said Danny for Tracy's benefit. "And the fire looks a bit more under control," he observed, peeking out the open ambulance door.

"I just need to check one more thing," said Tracy. She gestured for Danny to take place on the gurney and with some reluctance Danny sat down. The ambulance worker got out the flat wooden thing again she'd used a while ago to check for soot damage in Danny's throat. She peered inside again, using her flashlight.

"Amazing," concluded Tracy and retracted the wooden instrument. "Your throat is almost clear of all soot. It takes humans a couple of days to go from gray and black to pink. And you did it in what, one hour?"

"One of the advantages of being dead," quipped Danny.

That got him a weird look from Tracy. She seemed hesitant to talk. Danny used the opportunity to locate his boots and he began to pull them on. Tracy had done an excellent job fixing him up but now it was time to go home and sleep the rest of his injuries off.

"I just -" began Tracy but her voice hitched.

"Yeah?" prodded Danny, zipping up the top of his jumpsuit.

"You, you're not as dead as you pretend to be, are you?" said Tracy finally. Danny felt his features morph into a mask of fear and as quickly as he could he got it under control, but the flash in Tracy's eyes told him it was too late.

"You've got a pulse, you need to breathe, you eat and drink, you bleed like humans and you've got real emotions, not faked ones. If your eyes didn't glow I'd swear you were punk with a thing for jumpsuits. Hell, you've even got human organs!"

"Tracy," Danny tried to interrupt, but Tracy steamrolled over his protest with the logic train.

"You respond to anesthesia like any human and you cry, normal salty tears. You're not a full ghost, I think you're some kind of … hybrid. Capable of doing ghostly things while still having a solid body. Because there's no way you're telling me that 'all ghosts are like this'. I've seen ghosts, I've met ghosts, and they're always ethereal, spirits of air. But you, you're like, ground."

Danny frowned at Tracy. This was hitting way too close for comfort, it had hit that point miles ago and was now heading into a live minefield.

"No, no I'm not," tried Danny again. "I'm just a ghost, not this kind of 'hybrid'."

But the next few words surprised Danny into closing his mouth. The excitement in Tracy's voice as she explained her realization faded into a serious tone, one which showed that Tracy had seen plenty in her job as paramedic.

"Alright Danny," she began, looking Danny straight in the eyes, "I don't know why you do what you do or how this whole thing works exactly, but I won't pry any further. I don't know if I'm right or not and I don't think it really matters. But you saved my son from drowning two months ago, so I owe you."

Danny's memory ran down memory lane, quickly peeking through front doors, searching for the relevant memory. But he couldn't find anything that matched Tracy's description.

"If you ever need any medical help that's beyond your capabilities, find me and I swear I'll try everything in my power to help you."

Tracy's offer was genuine, Danny could tell.

"Thank you," said Danny. "Although I really am not what you think I am," he tried again. Tracy just smiled while Danny put on his boots and snapped his gloves into place, dislodging the ashes still on it into a small cloud.

"Thank _you_ for making sure I didn't need to use this ambulance to transport a dead person," replied Tracy without a trace of humor in her voice. Death was part of her trade, just like it was part of Danny's. But in Danny's case the deceased were up and running about.

"It's what I do," said Danny. "Rescue people, then get blamed somehow. Story of my after-life. Anyway, I think I'd better head out. Anything medical I should know about, like the stitches?"

Tracy shook her head. "No, those'll dissolve in time. Since you heal fast you can get them out early, though I'd recommend that you let a doctor do that. Keep on the look-out for any signs of a concussion and drink lots of water. And try to get some rest."

"Got it," said Danny. He stepped outside the ambulance and laid a hand on Cujo's flank.

"Good job, boy," he said, stroking the ghost dog. Cujo stopped growling at everything that moved and barked at Danny, turning back into the tiny puppy.

Danny picked the dog up and turned back to Tracy.

"Thanks again, for taking such good care of me despite my... nature."

"It's what I do," retorted Tracy. Danny let his natural abilities take over and he began to float. Cujo impatiently wriggled in his grip and he tucked the dog closer to his side.

"Nice meeting you, Tracy," said Danny before he took to the sky. His sharp ears could pick up the "you too, Danny Phantom".

Higher and higher he rose, across the building which was now softly smoldering and towards home, towards his bed. It was nice to know that even when he was in ghost form, people would take care of him when he no longer could. He still felt weak, but saving all those lives gave him the boost he needed.

Sometimes, his life was awesome.


End file.
